


kinktober 2020

by IneffableInsomniac



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, Firebringer - Team StarKid, Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Aftercare, Autistic Paul Matthews, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Cock Warming, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hook-Up, Impact Play, Kinktober 2020, Light Dom/sub, M/M, M/M/M, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Other, Piercings, Pining, Polyamory, Pouting, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sex Toys, Shibari, Strap-Ons, Tags to be added, Teasing, Ted Has ADHD, Temperature Play, The Great HatchetPiss Fuckfest, Threesome - F/M/M, distracted sex, whoops looks like some feelings snuck into my porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableInsomniac/pseuds/IneffableInsomniac
Summary: a collection of kink prompts for the month of October made by the wonderful @holographiccatpun. this is likely to be primarily Starkid/TCB, but my interests are all over the place and Good Omens will likely make an appearance.
Relationships: Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins/Ted, Wilbur Cross/Xander Lee/John McNamara
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	1. Day 1: Piercings/Dirty Talk (CharTed)

Ted fidgeted where he stood. Opened the fridge and stared in for several moments. Closed the fridge. Walked across the room and sat down, only to stand up and walk back into the kitchen. Leaned against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously, and checked his watch. 8:07 PM. They’d agreed on 8.

He’d been talking with Charlotte at work more and more lately, and she seemed… interested, at least in some capacity, so he’d finally bit the bullet and invited her over for a drink after work. And she’d agreed with a subtle wink to meet him at his place Friday evening, and now here he was, a bottle of his least shitty wine and a corkscrew sitting on the counter, hoping that he hadn’t completely and utterly misinterpreted this situation.

The doorbell rang.

His heart sank into his stomach.

He crossed the tiny kitchen of his shitty apartment and swung the door open to see Charlotte holding a bottle of whiskey and smiling timidly.

“Sorry I’m late, I had a little bit of trouble finding the building. You didn’t think I’d bail on drinks, did you?”

“Oh, uh, of course not.” In all honesty, he absolutely did. Figured he’d gotten the wrong idea, that she had only been joking around with him. But she apparently hadn’t, and so he pulled the door open. “Here, come in.”

“Thanks.” She entered, slipping her shoes off and walking tentatively into the apartment. 

Ted hadn’t had many visitors to his apartment lately, which was a nice way of saying he was in the middle of a dry spell that he would never admit the reason for. The reason, of course, was that, like it or not, he felt something for Charlotte. A lot of things, actually. It wasn’t fair - she was married to some cop scumbag who never paid her any attention while Ted was right there, a major upgrade (at least in the attention department). 

Hopeless romanticism aside, he’d cleaned up the place a bit, and although Charlotte had never been there before, it was definitely a lot tidier than she’d expected. Rather than the grubby bachelor pad that someone with Ted’s demeanor would look right at home in, the apartment was fairly neat. Cozy, even.

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure _what_ she’d expected. Ted didn’t talk much about his personal life in the office, and all she really knew was that he rented a small apartment on the north side of Hatchetfield (with a strict no-pets policy that he complained about very regularly). Being in his apartment gave her an opportunity to know him on an intimate level rather than as a colleague. And, if they were both on the same page about tonight, she’d be getting to know him _much_ more intimately soon.

Charlotte placed the bottle of liquor she’d brought on the kitchen counter and picked up the wine instead, examining the label. A 2018 Merlot. Huh. Maybe they _were_ on the same page after all. “This looks wonderful, Ted. Where do you keep your wine glasses?”

Ted, who’d been internally panicking about whether he’d cleaned the bathroom well enough, answered after a delay. “Uh, the cabinet behind you, on the bottom shelf. I can open the bottle if you want.” She didn’t need to know that he’d purchased the glasses two days ago after realizing that drinking wine out of coffee mugs was fine when he was alone in his apartment but probably less appropriate in polite company.

“No, allow me. Lord knows I have plenty of experience opening wine bottles by myself, heh,” she said in a joking tone that trailed off when she realized that it was more of a sad remark than a humorous one. She cleared her throat and turned to the cabinet, grabbing two glasses and setting them on the counter. “Um. You sit down, I’ll bring the wine out.”

“If you insist.” Ted sat down in the living room, watching as she carefully twisted the corkscrew into the top of the wine bottle before removing the cork with a loud pop. She picked up the bottle and the glasses and brought them out to the living room, depositing them onto the coffee table and sitting down next to Ted, close enough to be friendly but far enough that any physical contact would have to be deliberate. She poured each glass of wine carefully, then picked up her own and waited for him to do the same.

“Cheers.” She extended her glass towards him, and he mirrored the gesture, clinking the glasses together before each taking a drink of the wine.

“Cheers.”

-

Ted glanced over at the clock. (There was one in every room of the apartment - ADHD was a bitch to manage, and having clocks everywhere helped him to have some semblance of a sense of time.)

9:42 PM.

Time flew in good company, he supposed. After they’d polished off the Merlot, they’d started on the whiskey Charlotte had brought, and their conversation had spiraled quickly from talking about their families and other pleasantries to a sort of impromptu game of Truth or Dare (minus the whole “dare” aspect of the game). The questions had started out fairly innocuous but quickly spiraled into much more… _interesting_ territory after Ted asked Charlotte what the wildest thing she did in college was. (The answer was “jello wrestling,” which Ted had not been expecting in the slightest.)

They’d hit several other topics since then - Ted had lost his v-card at age 19 to a guy from his freshman statistics class, Charlotte at 17 to her high school boyfriend on prom night, and Ted had done drag for a brief stint in college.

They’d been drinking for an hour and a half now, slowly inching closer and closer to each other, and the topics were getting increasingly risqué. Something had to happen.

Charlotte’s turn.

“Alright, I- I’ve got one. What’s the craziest thing you ever did while you were drunk?”

Ted smirked. There was a vague air of competition to some of these questions, and he knew he had Charlotte beat on this one. He loosened his tie, pulling the loop over his head, and began unbuttoning his shirt. They’d been dancing around the reason they were sitting on Ted’s couch drinking together, but this was as good a way as any to speed things along. A look of confusion formed on Charlotte’s face, but he just winked at her before opening the last button and tugging the shirt off. 

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open just a bit as she took in the sight. Ted without a shirt on looked about how she’d imagined (and she _had_ imagined), except for one key detail: his nipples. A plain silver barbell adorned each one, the dim light of the living room gleaming off of them. 

Ted was tempted to ask whether she liked the piercings, but decided at the last second on a different course of action. “So, Charlotte, what’s the craziest thing _you've_ ever done drunk?”

She paused. Thought for a moment. Then responded.

“This.”

Before he had time to process her response, Charlotte pulled him into a passionate kiss, one hand laying against the nape of his neck and the other pressed against his chest, just above a piercing. He didn’t even really register what she’d said, just kissed back and looped an arm around her waist, his palm resting in the small of her back. His other hand went up to cup the side of Charlotte’s face, and-

“Mm- Ah!”

Ted let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a yelp as Charlotte’s hand found his piercing and pinched his nipple gently, not enough to hurt but a startling pleasure nonetheless. He pulled away from the kiss to breathe, and Charlotte looked worried for a moment. “Oh dear, are you alright? I didn’t- was that too much?”

“No, it, ah. Felt good. _Really_ good.” He made eye contact with Charlotte for a couple of very tense seconds before his eyes drifted aimlessly downward in an effort to avoid admitting how much he’d wanted this.

Relief washed across Charlotte’s features. “Well, in that case, I think we should head to the bedroom. Hm?” She stood up, the hand on Ted’s shoulder sliding up his neck until she was holding his chin gently, forcing him to look up at her. “Is that what you want, baby?”

Ted’s voice came out as a broken whisper. “Please.”

Charlotte took his hand, pulling Ted to his feet, and let him lead the way to his bedroom. She swung the door shut behind them, then pushed Ted firmly down onto the bed. He laid there speechless as she stood, pulling her sweater over her head and removing her skirt. She joined him on the bed, straddling his hips and placing her hands on either side of his head with a wicked grin.

Ted gazed up at Charlotte, completely love-struck. She looked absolutely gorgeous, and he got the privilege of seeing her like this, haloed by incandescent light. In this moment, he was completely hers, and he would do anything to prove it.

“… Teddy, you there?”

He suddenly realized that she’d definitely been talking, and he had checked out at some point. “Yeah, I’m alright, just. You, ah, you look really good like this. _Really_ good.”

Charlotte blushed a bit at the praise, moving a hand to Ted’s hair and threading her fingers through it. “Thank you, baby.” She leaned down to kiss him gently, then continued. “Now. What I was asking was what exactly you’re interested in doing.”

He didn’t think. Didn’t have to. He knew exactly what he wanted, what Charlotte so clearly needed (and wasn’t getting). “I want to go down on you.”

Her face turned an entirely new shade of red at the offer, the hand that had been playing with his hair freezing. “You, uh. I- you WANT to?”

“Of course I do.” He frowned. “Who wouldn’t want to?”

The name was on the tip of her tongue, but she decided through the haze of liquor that she probably shouldn’t be talking about her husband when she’s in bed with another man. “Al- alright. If you’re sure.” She ran her free hand over his piercings again, causing his breath to hitch.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I am.” He moved suddenly, repositioning them so Charlotte was lying on her back and he was on top. Wow. He could _really_ get used to this view, even if he probably shouldn’t. He pulled away for a moment, taking off his slacks, which had gotten uncomfortably tight in the past several minutes, and repositioned himself so that his head was at Charlotte’s waist level. 

Charlotte watched wide-eyed as Ted pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her thigh before sitting up and pulling her underwear off, tossing them to the side. His fingers trailed gently over her waist, hips, thighs, mons before coming to rest over her vulva. A shiver ran through her body as he began to press a finger into her slowly, and he leaned down to run his tongue over the hood of her clit, pulling a soft moan from her throat.

He began a slow rhythm, crooking his finger as he stroked her clit with his tongue, and it felt like heaven to Charlotte. Nobody had focused on her like this in… well, an awfully long time, and the feeling was incredible. She groaned in pleasure as Ted added a second finger, her hands suddenly finding themselves in his hair. He kept up the pace, flooding her senses with warmth and arousal.

As his tongue found a particularly sensitive spot, she cried out. “A- ah, Ted, please!” Her hands balled into fists, pulling Ted’s hair, and he moaned against her. It was all so much, and it felt so good - she wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Ted, please, Teddy, feels so good, I- ah, ‘m so close, please!” A barely-coherent string of praise and pleading left her mouth as she gripped Ted’s hair tightly, and he wasn’t going to deny her anything. He continued to stroke against her walls and circle her clit with his tongue, and he felt her tighten around his fingers as she came, moaning loudly.

He kept going until she relaxed, then pulled out and moved up the bed to hold her as she came down from her orgasm. He stroked her hair gently with his clean hand until she seemed to be ready to talk.

“How was that, Char?”

“That was… fucking amazing.” Her words slurred together a bit - after all, they were both still drunk, and she was exhausted. “Did you, ah, want- “ She cut herself off, gesturing vaguely towards Ted, who was still half-hard in his boxers, but he shook his head.

“I’m alright, baby. I think we should get some sleep first.”

She grinned blearily. “Alright. G’night, Teddy.”

“Goodnight, Char.”

Teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, floating through her own mind, she spoke one more time before falling asleep.

“Love you.”

Ted hesitated. Eh, it’s not like they’ll remember this in the morning. Whatever.

"Love you too, baby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ted is just a useless fucking simp


	2. Day 2: Cockwarming/Distracted Sex/Pouting (P3IP)

John swallowed carefully around around the dick in his mouth, making sure not to move too much. He’d been cockwarming underneath Wilbur’s desk from what felt like hours, although the clock on the wall behind them indicated that it had been around 30 minutes. His arms were tied intricately behind his back, and Xander had put a sizable plug inside of him that morning, which kept him from sitting back like he normally would.

The writing desk sat in the center of the room and had an open front, so when Xander walked into their home office with a glass of water, he was treated to the sight of John squirming slightly as he tried to readjust his position.

“Wil, it’s been a half hour.”

Wilbur’s head jerked up at Xander’s words. He’d been working his way through a stack of paperwork after PEIP’s most recent intervention with a minor paranormal event. (A ghost manifests and tosses a rude visitor down the stairs in a historical house and he never hears the fucking end of the NDAs.) The work was tedious, but he had gotten lost in it and lost track of time.

“Shit, right. John, baby, it’s time for a break.”

John pouted as Wilbur pulled his half-hard cock out of John’s mouth. “I can keep going, sir. I’m not that fragile.”

Xander knelt down next to the desk. “We know, kitten, but it’s still good to take a break. Your jaw must hurt by now, and we have to check the ties.”

He took pause at that. Xander had a point - he was fairly out of it when submitting to his husbands like this, so they’d had incidents where his limbs ended up falling asleep because he simply didn’t notice that the blood flow was being restricted.

John wiggled his arms around in the bonds a bit, pleased to find that he still had normal feeling in them and the rope seemed to be holding well. “My arms’re fine, master.”

Wilbur cut in at this point. “I’m glad, but we’re still taking the ropes off for a little bit, okay? Your shoulders could use a break. Turn around.”

Cue the eye roll. John loved his husbands to death, but they were both such worriers about play like this. Still, he complied with the order, and Wilbur loosened each set of loops before slipping the arm harness off, laying it carefully on the desk so he didn’t have to retie it.

John pulled his arms forward, relishing the stretch in his shoulders as he accepted the glass from Xander and raised it to his lips. Wilbur played lazily with his hair as he sipped the water slowly, and the three of them sat in comfortable silence.

When John finished the water, he spoke up. “How’s the paperwork going, sir?”

“Just fine, kitten,” Wilbur responded. “Now, would you like to get back under the desk or do you want something else?”

“I, um… ” He looked up at Wilbur with his best puppy-dog eyes. A dirty trick, sure, but if it worked it would be worth it (and it usually did). “I’d like to get you off, sir. If that’s allowed.”

Xander looked up at Wilbur as well, running a hand over John’s thigh. “What do you think, Wil? Has he earned it?”

Wilbur paused for a moment, pretending to think. They all knew the answer - Wilbur could pretend to be a hard dom all he wanted, but he could never deny John anything. “I suppose so. Do you want the harness back on?”

“I’d like to leave it off for now, sir. Is that alright?”

“Sure thing, baby. But I’m gonna keep working, okay? There’s still quite a bit to do.” Really, he’d gotten enough paperwork done that he could call it quits for now, but he knew John enjoyed being “ignored” during scenes like this.

“Of course, sir.” John got back into his previous position, letting a slight whimper escape him as the plug in his ass shifted.

“Aw, are you enjoying yourself, kitten?” Xander teased.

John blushed a bit at the words. “Yes, master.”

Wilbur, meanwhile, had pulled his chair a bit closer to the desk - far enough that John wasn’t under the desk, but close enough that he could feign the appearance of doing work. He could let Xander do the talking this time around.

John impatiently leaned forward and took Wilbur into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around the quickly hardening cock. Wilbur couldn’t hold back a quiet whine as John ran his tongue along the underside of his head.

Xander tapped Wilbur on the thigh, and they exchanged a brief look. Satisfied with his nonverbal answer, Xander ran a hand down John’s chest and proceeded to take John’s dick in his hand. John had been hard for nearly the entire time he’d been cockwarming, and he moaned around Wilbur, pulling a groan of pleasure from the man.

The motions caused the plug inside of John to rock back and forth as he thrusted shallowly into Xander’s hand and sucked Wilbur’s cock eagerly. It was one of the larger ones they owned, and it occasionally brushed against his prostate, sending sparks up his spine.

Wilbur was making a valiant effort to pretend to work, but his knuckles were white against the edge of the desk and his eyes were hazy and unfocused. Xander noted this and smirked at John, whose eyes were similarly glassy as he lost himself to submission and pleasure.

John’s pace picked up, and before long, Wilbur was mumbling praise to John as he came into John’s mouth. John swallowed everything he was given, then pulled away and rested his head in Wilbur’s lap as Xander continued to stroke him. A few moments later, John was spilling over into Xander’s hand with a “Please, master!”

As both of his husbands came down from their climaxes, Xander pulled John into an embrace, offering up his hand. Without hesitation, John took Xander’s come-coated fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue. The sight was incredibly hot, but Xander wanted to take care of Wilbur and their kitten before he did anything about it.

“Kitten, do you want me to carry you, or do you want to walk?”

“I can- ” John went to stand, but stopped mid-sentence when he fell a short distance back to his knees. “Alright, apparently I can’t.” Xander laughed and offered his arms to John, scooping his giddy, come-drunk husband up in his arms.

“Wil, baby, you coming?” He turned back to Wilbur, who was leaning against the edge of the desk and panting. Wilbur looked up at him with a hazy expression.

“Yep, be right there. Just… gimme a minute, Xan.”

“If you say so.”

Xander walked down the hall and deposited a sleepy John onto their bed, crawling in beside him and whispering praise to him as he fell asleep. Five minutes passed. Then ten. He slipped quietly out of bed and padded down the hall to the office.

Wilbur had fallen asleep with his head on the desk and his pants still around his ankles. Xander was almost surprised.

Almost.

Laughing quietly to himself, he carefully picked Wilbur up out of the chair. Wilbur shifted in his arms a bit, but continued to snore lightly. God, he was adorable.

Once he got back to the bedroom, Xander set Wilbur down on the bed and crawled into the space between him and John. Both of them snuggled up to his warmth, and he drifted off to sleep lying comfortably between the two people he loved most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter goes out to the ever-wonderful P3IP server and especially to its creator, @OTPGirl. love you guys  
> (also in case it wasn't clear, xander is "master" and wilbur is "sir" alright that's it bye)


	3. Day 3: Toys/Mutual Masturbation (Paulkins)

“Honey, I’m home!”

Emma called out into their apartment as she locked the door behind her and slipped her shoes off, depositing her keys on the entryway table. It was a Saturday, so she had worked her usual morning shift at Beanie’s, leaving her boyfriend to his own devices.

Huh. Usually on an afternoon like this, Paul would be on the couch, watching television or maybe napping. He always cleaned on Saturdays while she was at work (Paul was a big fan of routines), so she’d usually get home and make them lunch after she was done suffering through another shift with her musically-inclined coworkers.

The couch, however, was empty. Interesting. Maybe he’d gone back to bed? She headed for their bedroom, but she stopped just outside the room.

A low, throaty whine emanated from behind the door, which was just slightly ajar. Now that she was listening for it, she could also hear a dull buzzing. Oh. _Oh_. A jolt of arousal raced down her spine and coiled in her stomach.

She swung the door open slowly to see Paul sprawled across their bed, one hand around his dick and the other gripping the base of a vibrator that he was slowly thrusting into himself. He didn’t seem to notice Emma enter the room, instead continuing his motions and moaning softly.

He looked breathtaking.

Emma wasn’t sure exactly how to get his attention without startling him. She still had one hand on the doorknob, so she lifted the other and knocked gently on the door.

At the sound, Paul’s eyes snapped open and he froze, a look of embarrassment on his face. “Emma, I- shit, ’s it 1 already?”

“Got off early, baby. Slow day. But now that I’m here… ” She walked closer to the bed, looking him up and down, and began unbuttoning her shirt. “By all means, don’t let me stop you.”

“If you insist.” He began stroking himself again, his eyes glued to Emma as she disrobed slowly.

Once Emma was in only her panties, she got on top of Paul, causing his eyes to widen in arousal. She leaned down to peck him on the lips before trailing kisses and gentle bites down his jaw and the side of his neck, stopping to suck a bruise into the dip above his collarbone and earning a loud moan. The hand he’d been holding the vibrator with moved up to caress Emma’s chest, thumbing over a nipple and feeling it harden under the touch.

Emma sat up so that she was on her knees, straddling Paul’s thighs, and placed one hand on his chest to steady herself. Her other hand slipped under the waistband of her underwear, and she trailed two fingers lightly over her entrance, surprised to realize she was already somewhat wet. She slid one, then two fingers into herself, curling them upwards and moaning at the sensation. She was thoroughly enjoying the look of reverence she was receiving from Paul, who had resumed his use of the vibrator now that Emma was out of reach.

Paul, on the other hand, was too busy admiring Emma to notice the fondness on her face. She looked beautiful like this, pleasuring herself on top of him. He let out a particularly loud moan of “Emma, _please_ ,” as his hips jerked upwards and caused the vibrator to press briefly against his prostate.

She chuckled at his eagerness, shifting her hand so that she could rub circles into her clit with her thumb and groaning in pleasure. “You’re doing so good, baby. Are you getting close?”

There was no way in hell that Paul was going to string words together coherently in this state, so he nodded frantically, another low whine coming from his throat as he ran his thumb over the head of his cock, adding precome to the lube he’d used prepping himself for the vibrator.

“Good, baby. I- me too.” A breathy moan fell from Emma’s lips as she crooked her fingers and stroked over her clit. She could tell that Paul was almost there by the way he’d started to tense up beneath her, and she wasn’t far behind. She quickened her pace and spoke between panting breaths. “Come for me, baby.”

At Emma’s words, Paul tipped over the edge of orgasm, come spilling over his hand and chest. Emma came quickly after with a long, drawn-out moan, her legs shaking as she was overwhelmed with pleasure. Several long moments later, Paul turned the vibrator off, and Emma slumped forward, laying next to him with an arm draped across his chest, the two still breathing heavily.

“… God, you’re gorgeous like that.”

“Thanks, Em.”

“I think… I’d like to come home to this… more often.”

“Noted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> autistic paul rights  
> also in case anyone is wondering (which they aren't) my writing process for every day so far has been:  
> \- put mama by mcr on a loop  
> \- open thesaurus.com  
> \- [REDACTED]  
> \- profit???


	4. Day 4: Creampie/Toys/Morning Sex (Paul/Ted/Emma)

Paul yawned, stretching carefully so as not to disturb his partners laying on either side of him. As he became more conscious, he also became aware of the plug that Emma had decided to leave in him after last night, keeping him stretched open “for whenever we decide to use you.” Those words had been Ted’s, and just thinking about them was turning him on, blood rushing to his face and his dick as he remembered the things they’d said.

“Such a perfect little toy for us to fuck, right baby?”

Emma had punctuated that line with a smack to his ass, earning her a drawn-out noise of agreement muffled by Ted’s cock in his mouth. Paul had lost himself in submission by that point, so Ted was setting the rhythm, gently rocking into his mouth. For all his assertiveness and aggression in an office setting, he was surprisingly gentle and caring as a dom, making sure he never gave Paul more than he could handle.

Paul was snapped out of his memory by a groan from behind him. He realized that he’d begun grinding his hips backwards against the plug and, apparently, against Ted as well. His boyfriend blinked blearily awake, confused and then pleased when he put together the pieces of what Paul had been doing.

Ted grinned and pulled Paul closer, shoving his hips against Paul’s ass and jostling the plug. “Morning, doll. Sleep well?” Paul only whined in response, and Ted rolled over to grab the lube off the nightstand before returning to his previous position. Reaching below the waistband of Paul’s briefs, Ted toyed with the plug, pushing and pulling the base and listening as Paul whimpered in response.

“God, you’re beautiful like this.” Ted couldn’t wait any longer. He eased the plug out of Paul’s ass and set it aside. He popped open the bottle of lubricant and made sure Paul was prepared, laughing when he flinched away from the cold substance as Ted pushed two, then three fingers into him.

Ted removed his fingers, and that was all the warning Paul got before Ted was pressing slowly into him, his hole stretching around Ted’s cock. Ted began a gentle rhythm, dragging his hips slowly and making sure to push against Paul’s prostate as he thrusted in. Paul turned his head and moaned into the pillow, muffling his noises in a futile attempt to let Emma sleep in, but it was too late, and she rolled onto her side, taking in the view she’d woken up to.

Paul’s collarbones and chest were dotted with hickies from last night, and Ted was in the middle of adding another, his mouth pressed against the spot where Paul’s shoulder met his neck. Paul’s face, on the other hand, was still buried in a pillow, so Emma decided to surprise him a little bit. She moved closer and placed a hand on his waist, speaking with a tone of mock-disappointment.

“Aw, baby, was taking the strap last night not enough for you? You’re just insatiable.”

As she spoke, Paul’s head snapped up, a deep blush spreading across his face. He opened his mouth to try and defend himself, but Ted thrust harder into him and bit down on his neck, and all that came out was a broken whine. She laughed, running her hands over his chest before taking hold of his dick and stroking slowly.

“Then again, you probably want to be filled up with cum, don’t you? You like it when we make a mess of you.” It wasn’t a question, and hearing it aloud embarrassed and aroused Paul at the same time. It had taken him a long time to admit it, but once he had, Emma and Ted wasted no opportunity to play into it. He nodded slightly, giving Emma the answer she wanted.

She smirked and made eye contact with Ted, who seemed to get the message and sped up a bit, Paul’s eyes rolling back as he moaned loudly at the feeling. Emma leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

“Good boy.”

The praise pushed Paul over the edge, and he shook as he came, entrance tightening around Ted’s dick and cum spilling into Emma’s hand and onto the bedsheets. It wasn’t long before Ted was coming inside of Paul with a loud moan, his hips stilling as he filled Paul with his seed. Once he had finished, Ted grabbed the plug from where he’d left it and pulled out before quickly inserting it.

Paul, who’d already started to doze off again, mumbled a quiet “thank you” before passing out again, and Emma and Ted simply curled up against each side of him and fell back asleep.

They could deal with the cumstains later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up guys. got my ass kicked by depression for two months but i'm back. not my best work but i'll get the hang of it again soon. probably. we'll see
> 
> a deleted line from this chapter: (They’d actually bought a dildo fitted with a cumtube for Emma, but one deeply embarrassing hospital visit later, they’d found out Paul was allergic to the stuff and decided that it wasn't worth the trouble.)
> 
> anyways i just think paul is such a bottom that he needs two tops (ted's a switch but w/e)


	5. Day 5: Teasing/Bareback/Temperature Play (Curtwen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all just thought i’d mention ahead of time that, in this work, owen slaps curt for being a brat without asking first. they have done impact play before and are both comfortable with this, and as is made clear later on, have a safeword system in place. none of the works i write for kinktober will have non-con in them. :)

The door to Curt’s hotel room slammed shut, and then Curt was being pinned forcefully against it by the lapels of his suit jacket.

Owen spoke breathily next to his ear. “You’ve been toying with me all evening. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Curt thought for a moment. “Can’t say that I do, Carvour.” 

A cheeky grin was plastered across his face, and Owen couldn’t decide whether he wanted to slap or kiss it off. His voice dropped to a near-growl.

“Don’t be a fucking brat, Mega.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll regret it.”

Curt seemed to take pause at the threat, one eyebrow creeping slightly higher. But almost as soon as the look of nervousness and anticipation crossed his face, it was replaced by a smug look of triumph.

“Make me.”

The sound of skin against skin rang out through the room, blood rising to the surface of Curt’s skin where Owen’s hand had made contact with his cheek. His expression lingered somewhere around “stunned” for a moment before working its way back to infuriatingly neutral.

“Aw, is that the best you’ve got, Owe- !?”

Curt’s snide retort was cut off as Owen grabbed a fistful of his tie and yanked him forward into a passionate kiss. They pulled apart several moments later, faces flushed. Owen spoke softly, but Curt knew the difference between an order he could push back against and a direct command.

“Bedroom. Now. You are not to touch yourself or disrobe until I enter. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

-

Five minutes later, Owen entered the bedroom with a container of lube and... a bucket? Curt was a bit lost, but he knew better than to question Owen. Whatever his partner had planned, he trusted him to make it enjoyable for both of them (or to stop if it wasn’t). Owen deposited both items on the nightstand and looked Curt over, reveling in how worked up he already was.

“Strip.”

Without a word, Curt stood from his perch on the edge of the bed and began carefully removing his suit. Once he had fully undressed, he sat back onto the bed and tried his hardest to ignore Owen as the man looked him up and down hungrily. His hands itched to stray towards his hardening cock, but he knew that disobedience this early meant he’d likely miss out on whatever Owen had planned for tonight.

“Good boy.”

The words sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “Thank you, sir.”

Owen grabbed Curt’s chin firmly, tipping his head up and looking into his eyes. “Now, are you going to behave tonight?”

“... Yes, sir,” Curt grumbled.

“Good.” He patted Curt’s cheek condescendingly. “Now, lie back and put your arms above your head.”

As Curt complied, Owen picked up his discarded tie. Leaning over, he tied Curt’s wrists together. “Color?”

“Green, sir.”

Owen nodded in approval and got onto the bed, straddling Curt’s torso. He leaned down, locking their lips again in a searing kiss, and felt Curt’s hips buck against him, searching desperately for friction. He nipped Curt’s lower lip gently before pulling away and holding up what he’d been surreptitiously fishing out of the small pail on their bedside table. 

An ice cube.

Curt squinted at the object in momentary confusion before his eyes widened in curiosity and fear. “Alright, Owen, I’m not saying no yet, but exactly what do you intend upon doing with that?”

Owen didn’t respond, simply smirked before slowly lowering it to drag the edge of it across one of Curt’s nipples, drawing a loud whimper from the man. The response seemed positive, but he needed confirmation. “Color?”

“Green, holy shit, green, I- ah!” His moan was cut off as Owen lowered his mouth to the same nipple, the warmth contrasting the cold and sending shockwaves of stimulation through him. 

Pleased with his experiment thus far, Owen repeated the same actions on the other nipple, drawing several more loud whines from the man underneath him. 

“Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself, Mega.”

“Mm- ! Suck my dick, Owen.”

“We’re getting there, dear.”

Owen grabbed another ice cube from the bucket and popped it into his mouth before repositioning himself over Curt’s thighs so that he could focus his attention southward.

Curt’s eyes went wide as he realized what Owen intended to do. No sooner had he realized, though, than Owen was trailing deathly cold fingertips over his abdomen and the creases of his hips, causing him to shiver and forcing a soft whimper from him.

Apparently satisfied with how cold his mouth was, Owen swallowed the remainder of the ice cube and ducked down towards Curt’s hard cock, glancing up at Curt’s face to judge his expression. Apprehensive yet curious. Looks like he was off to a good start.

Owen’s tongue darted out from between his lips and licked gently across the tip of Curt’s dick. And holy shit. The sensation was like nothing Curt had ever felt, primarily in terms of intensity. He let out a very undignified whimper, pulling against the restraints and writhing underneath Owen.

“Careful, baby. Still good?”

“Yeah, just- nn, it’s. A lot.”

“Alright. Let me know if that changes, hmm?”

Without waiting for an answer, Owen sat up to grab the lube, flipping open the cap and squeezing some into his palm. He spread it over his fingers, making no efforts to warm it up, and moved to press one exquisitely cold fingertip against Curt’s entrance.

Owen gradually slid his index finger into Curt’s ass, eliciting a whimper from the man underneath him. 

“Jesus, that’s cold.”

Owen stopped moving. “Too much?”

The look of pleasure on Curt’s face was replaced with a frustrated scowl. “Never, ah, said that.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Feeling much more sure of himself, Owen began curling his finger rhythmically and wrapped his other still-cool hand around Curt’s erection. Curt’s hips snapped upward, and he cried out loudly.

Owen was spurred on by this reaction. He began slowly stroking Curt’s shaft as he carefully added a second finger into the man’s ass and began stretching him. His thumb swiped across the sensitive head, and Curt struggled for words.

“I- ah, yellow, Owen.”

Owen stopped immediately, taking his hand off Curt and stilling the fingers inside him. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“‘M alright, just. A lot.” Curt struggled to catch his breath. “Hands’re... cold.”

“That’s the point, Curt,” Owen giggled. “Seriously, though, we can stop if-“ 

He was cut off by a very enthusiastic Curt. “Never said that. Just... needed a second. And for your hand to warm up a little. ‘M not gonna last like this.”

“Cheeky bastard. Is it alright if I keep going, then?”

Curt nodded, not trusting his words. He really didn’t want to start begging this early.

The fingers inside Curt had warmed up considerably, so it was less overwhelming when Owen began scissoring them again, curling them to press against his prostate. He carefully placed his somewhat-warmer hand back on Curt’s dick, watching his face intently for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, he proceeded to add a third finger and watched in delight as Curt’s face contorted in pleasure. 

Owen palmed the head of Curt’s cock as he crooked his fingers against his prostate, and, without warning, Curt was coming into his hand, his entrance tightening around Owen’s fingers as he moaned loudly. Once he had ridden out the aftershocks of his orgasm, Owen frowned slightly, releasing his cock and sliding his fingers slowly out of Curt’s ass.

“I don’t remember telling you that you could get off, sweetheart.”

Curt was a bit too hazy to protest, but he mumbled out a “S’ry, sir.”

“It’s alright, baby. Not gonna punish you. Just means you’re gonna be a little sensitive for what I have planned.”

Curt’s eyes widened in apprehension as Owen stood from the bed, unzipping and removing his pants. He hadn’t been able to see it well, but Owen was fully hard in his briefs, which he pulled off to expose his cock.

“S-sir, I want you, but I don’t know if I can- “

“Shh, baby, it’s alright. I’m gonna go real slow, and if it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“A-alright, sir.”

Owen got back on top of Curt. His hand was still coated in come and lube, and he stroked himself, smearing Curt’s mess across his erection. Curt’s soft cock twitched at the sight. He probably wouldn’t be able to come while Owen fucked him, which he supposed was punishment in and of itself.

Curt groaned as Owen slid three fingers back into him, checking to make sure he was still open enough. Satisfied with the results, he pulled them back out and lined up his cock with Curt’s hole.

Still watching Curt’s expression carefully, he began to push into him. Owen entered Curt slowly, moaning as he did. The wet heat of Curt’s body felt incredible around him, pulling him in. Curt let out a low whine as he was filled, arousal coursing through him.

Once he was fully inside Curt, Owen started to roll his hips shallowly, grinning at the sounds it pulled from Curt.

“Color, dear?”

“Mm, green, sir.”

Owen began to speed up, thrusting more deeply into Curt and hitting his prostate repeatedly, drawing loud whines from him. It wasn’t long before Owen was coming with a grunt into Curt, his thrusts halting as pleasure crashed over him. Once he had finished, he pulled out of Curt and moved to hold him in his arms, speaking breathlessly.

“How do you feel, darling?”

“Good, sir. Thank you.”

Several minutes passed until Curt was collected enough to speak properly.

“Owen, that was fucking amazing.”

Owen, who was not anywhere near collected, mumbled a “Thank you” into Curt’s chest, snuggling closer.

“Babe, I think we should shower.”

“Mm, just a minute...”

“Owen, I will not have us falling asleep covered in come.”

“... Fine, if you insist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hee hoo can you tell i’ve never put anything in anyone’s ass ever  
> also brat!curt rights


End file.
